


Manhattan Bridge

by cowboysrgay



Category: Marvel, The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Pre-Slash, References to Depression, Suicide Attempt, mainly wrote this as a vent, might write a follow up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 11:36:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18072704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboysrgay/pseuds/cowboysrgay
Summary: Frank, who is having an impossible time dealing with his family’s death, takes what would possibly be his last trip to the Manhattan Bridge. But could one man change his fate?





	Manhattan Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by  Are We Losing Our Balance? by taormina. I myself am a suicide survivor, so in a way this was just another way to help me process everything. This is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own.

            From up on the bridge it was almost peaceful. The ambient sounds of New York echoed in his head like a record on repeat, almost drowning the horrible sounds trapped in his head. Frank looked down from the edge of the Manhattan bridge, legs dangling over the side over the water. It reminded him of when he visited the beach with Maria in high school, just to mess around and have a good time together.

 

            _Maria_ _._ His heart clenched at the thought of her name. He missed her so much. People always thought he was the tough one, but it actually was Maria. Maria was the one who had carried their two children, who had put up with Frank being shipped out multiple times, and could beat him in a fight even with her being so much shorter than him. Maria had been his rock, the one person he could turn to when it was rough, even if it was through a letter or a satellite call. She was the one who took care of the kids when he was off playing soldier.

 

            The kids. They were the second love of his life next to Maria. Lisa was his oldest, but his little girl. She was a firecracker just like her mother, but had his stubbornness. Lisa was one of the few people who could get Frank to do just about anything. She was, after all, his little girl. She loved it when Frank read to her, even though she could read on her own. _One batch, two batch, penny and dime._ That line would be stuck in his head forever. Frank Jr., his little boy. He had only been eight when he died. Frank adored his son, and he regretted that he hadn’t been there when his son was born. It was one of the biggest regrets of his life.  


            When he finally broke away from the happy memories, Frank noticed the warm tears that had started to streak his cheeks, and wiped it off with a sleeve. He couldn’t change what happened to them. He could only change what happened with himself. He lifted himself up, and stood on the concrete barrier before the East River. Now it just seemed that New York stood still, the noise just deafened as he stood.  
  
            He wouldn’t be missed. His family was already gone, and he was supposed to be with them. _He should have died_ _._ But Frank was still here, still kicking somehow. He wasn’t alive though, just merely existing. Frank didn’t have a purpose anymore, or anything to fall back into. The Marines wouldn’t take him back in after this, he’d already been medically discharged for the head wound, and he didn’t have anyone else left. Ask anyone, and they’d say it would be a horrible existence. That’s why Frank wasn’t planning on being here much longer.

 

            Deep breath in, deep breath out. He took a step closer to the edge, a new kind of determination flowing through his veins. Frank was going to be with his family again. But as he took another step closer, a new feeling went through him. _Regret? Fear?_ Frank couldn’t tell. He grit his teeth and kept going until now he stood on the edge. Just one wrong step and he would be plummeting thousands of feet down to the water below.

 

Just as he was about to take that final step, he was stopped. “Sir, please get down!” The shout made Frank want to shout back, but he bit his tongue. He hesitated, not yet stepping off. The hesitation threw him totally off kilter. He stumbled back, and soon found himself standing in the middle once again. “Please!” Frank didn’t know why they cared. They didn’t know him, and it’s not like he was special. He was just another sorry bastard with nothing left. In this instance, Frank’s curiosity won. He turned to the voice and saw a man on the pedestrian pathway. He wore a plain grey suit, red glasses, and held a white cane along with a briefcase. _He was blind_ _._  


“How did you know I was up here?” Frank’s voice came out hoarser than he thought it would. The man didn’t seem surprised by the question, but kept looking up at Frank before answering him.  


“I heard you. The human body has to compensate for losing one sense in some way. Are you going to come down?” The man asked. Frank didn’t really believe the man’s excuse. Not even a blind man’s hearing should be that good.  


“Why should I? And why do you even care if I do this? It’s not like you know me,” Frank words had venom to them but purely by accident. It was just his defenses coming back up after the shock at first. Besides, it’s not like he’d see this guy ever again.

 

“I may not know you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about people lives. I also care because I’ve been there. A lot of people go through rough times in their life, but for some it gets to the point they find life not worth living. But it’s not the solution. I’ve tried and I’ve tried, but in the end, I regretted it. Eventually I found a reason worth living, it was so I could try to help other people. So please, just come down and talk. And if you still feel like jumping off, I can’t stop you but I’m going to at least try,” It was one hell of a speech. The blind man before Frank didn’t strike him as someone who had attempted before, but some would say the same about him if they saw him.  


“I have to say Red, that was one hell of a speech,” Frank said as he slowly climbed down, taking him up on the offer of talking, although a little more hesitantly than what was typical for Frank. His feet touched the pavement with a dull thud but he stayed up against the wall rather than get closer to the man.

 

“Red?” He questioned, raising a brow from behind the distinct round glasses. Since he was down now Frank could examine the man closer and saw that everything about him was covered in light scars. The little bit of his wrist that showed was covered by a large, white scar that Frank recognized right away. The man hadn’t been bluffing about his story.  


“It’s the color of your glasses. You never said what your name was,” Frank said bluntly, crossing his arms, almost acting as a physical barrier between Frank and the man. As he spoke, the noise in Frank’s head started to soften but he just pushed that aside. It didn’t mean anything.  
  
            “It’s Matt. I think it would only be appropriate for you to share your own now, mysterious deep voiced stranger,” The last sentence had a bit of light jest in it, almost as an attempt to help lighten the mood just a bit. Frank let out a soft sigh. He shouldn’t be sharing this much.

 

“My name’s Frank,” He admitted even though the common sense in his head screamed at him to stop. He couldn’t go off making friends right before he died. Maria would have smacked him upside the head if she saw what he was doing now.

 

“Well Frank, since I spilt a good portion of my own life story, tell me why on this fine night you’re up here on the bridge,” The man almost sounded like a reporter or a lawyer with the way he asked his questions. It’s possible he could be either, Frank didn’t know.

 

“I recently lost my family. Should’ve died with ‘em but I didn’t. I was planning on finishing the job,” Frank said callously, not caring at this point to sugar coat it, or make up some flower term to get around what he meant. Matt frowned at what he said.  
  
            “And you think you won’t be missed?” Matt asked, and Frank just about rolled his eyes. There wasn’t anyone, the ones that did were already dead, but it’s not like he knew that. He had just met him after all.    


“I won’t. Anyone who cared is already dead,” Frank looked away from Matt, feeling a weird sense of guilt as he spoke. He shouldn’t be, he was telling the truth. He had no one. No one at all that would miss him if he kicked the bucket.

 

“You’re wrong. You will be,” Matt said simply as if Frank had just lied to the blind man. It sparked rage in Frank. _How the hell could he know? He knew jackshit about Frank and his family._

 

“What the hell do you mean? You know nothing about me, about my family!” Frank found himself almost shouting at him in anger. Then another wave of guilt hit. He shouldn’t be yelling at a blind man.  
  
            Matt didn’t seem to be phased at all by Frank’s yelling. “I don’t need to know about you. I can tell you that you will be missed, because I’ll be the one. I may not know you, or your history, but I know I’ll remember Frank, the man from the Manhattan Bridge. The man who opened up to a stranger, even though he didn’t have to.”

 

Frank was at a loss for words. He felt his cheeks go warm, and he realized it was tears. They rolled off his cheeks and splattered onto the dry pavement without a sound. He couldn’t grasp how Matt could care about him and say that he would remember him. Frank was forgettable. A man who blended in with most armed forces types, who fit in with society and would be forgotten in a matter of decades, even sooner now with the loss of his family.

 

He soon found the words he had been trying to say. “Thank you, Matt,” It was brief but Frank meant it. He was the only one who cared, and he was a stranger. Someone else out there must care too… And if he was gone who would remember Maria, Lisa, and Frank Jr.? Matt couldn’t remember them all too. “Thank you,” He repeated again, wiping his face with a sleeve quickly.

 

“No Frank, thank you. Thank you for listening to me, and for talking,” Matt said back with gentle smile. It was almost like one you would exchange with a friend. But, they were just strangers.

 

“I… I’m going to go home,” Frank finally said after clearing his throat again. He needed time to think this through before doing anything else. When he said that he saw the smile on Matt’s face grow a bit. He could tell Frank wasn’t going to try again tonight.  
  


“Before you do,” Matt reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, holding it out to him. It was a business care for an attorney. “If you ever need someone to talk to, give me a call. I answer my phone at all times, even in the middle of the night.”

 

Frank took the card and put it in his wallet. “Matt… Thank you.”

 

Matt waved a hand. “It’s okay, really,” And then Matt was off, making his way down the pathway of the bridge. Frank stood there a moment before he went the opposite way, headed for home. He had a lot to think about when he got there.

 

 


End file.
